Professor Layton and the Branded Dove
by MoonRaven1412
Summary: Olivia is young woman of many faces. She is an archeology student, an heiress of a rich woman, an artist, an assistant of a criminal... Follow her steps and watch her grow through the years of her life. Follow as she meets a brother, a mentor, a friend, a rival, enemies. Watch her meet Professor Layton and solve puzzles by his side. OC story, starts pre-games, no pairings decided
1. It all started when

**A/N: I am very sorry, old readers. I just... I need to get these ideas on paper(digital or not)! I've been watching Professor Layton walkthroughs lately and... Well, here is Olivia, my OC. Isn't it refreshing to have something else from me than self-inserts?**

 **New readers... This is my first PL fic. Not a first fic over all. I hope you are gentle with me. Nice to meet you all. :)**

 **This chapter is a sort of a test. Let's see what you like this.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1  
** **The beginning of the story**

It all began… Yes, when did it all began again? A young woman brushed her dark locks away from her eyes and looked up, out of the window of her room. In the distance rose rooftops of most strange fashion and above all of them towered a pagoda. This was the future. A stage play where everyone had a role to play. The woman looked away from the monstrous tower that made everyone in Future London quiver in fear. Everyone apart from some chosen individuals, one of which she, too, was.

"It all began over ten years ago." She spoke with a quiet voice. "When the time machine of the Institute of Polydimensional Physics blew up. When I got a new little brother."

* * *

 **Year 19X8, June, the Dove residence**

"Young miss Olivia, Mistress Constance is asking you to the parlour." A fourteen year old girl looked up from her history book at the housekeeper who was standing at the doorway.

"Thank you, Spring. I'll be there at once." Olivia smiled and closed the book. She had already read quite enough for her up-coming history exam anyways. And she was excited to see who would be with Granny Constance. A new sibling that had been conversed about a couple of times during the last months.

Olivia got up from her bed and straightened her dress. Sometimes… It was quite tiring to act lady-like, but sometimes it was good act to conceal her real thoughts and skills. At this time and age… Well, some things were expected for her, especially considering her position as Constance Dove's heiress and adoptive daughter.

* * *

The girl left her room and walked the stairs down to the first floor where the parlour was. There, Constance Dove herself was waiting for her with a boy standing by her side.

"Olivia, this is your new brother Clive." The woman already past her prime yet regally holding herself, introduced the boy. Olivia took a good look on him. He was definitely younger than she was. Sandy-blonde hair, wide and round eyes… He was dressed neatly. White dress shirt, brown jacket, dark grey knee-length shorts, white knee-socks and simple black shoes.

"Pleasure to meet you, miss." Clive nodded. "My name is Clive Marshall."

"Olivia Brandt. I'm glad to have you as a brother." The girl nodded back. It was clear that the boy had good manners. But not as good as she had by now. Olivia glanced at Contance who was smiling proudly at them.

"It is perfectly fine to identify with your previous family name but outside of our residence I hope you show united front as Doves." The woman explained to Clive. "The social circles nowadays…" She scoffed. "They expect so much of us."

"The snobs." Olivia sniffed haughtily, eliciting a small laugh from Clive. The girl smiled too. When she had first seen the boy, he had seemed so somber. Considering that he was most likely an orphan I she was… the loss of parents must have been recent.

"Olivia dear, why don't you show Clive around the house? No need for us old people to get in the way of youngsters." Us old people meaning Constance herself, housekeeper Spring, caretaker Cogg and gardener Shipley.

"Sure, Granny. I'd be glad to." Olivia led Clive out to the corridors. "You probably saw the foyer in the ground floor when you came in."

"I did, yes…"

"Great. One more place I don't need to show you. All the historical details muddle up in my mind despite my love for history." The pair headed for empty corridor that was full of portraits and mirrors.

"Umm… How long have you…-" Clive cut himself off before finishing the question. But Olivia had gotten the gist of it already.

"I was five when my parents died in a car accident. Slippery road or something. Then I was almost two years at orphanage before Granny Constance adopted me." The girl answered easily. "I like it here. I have education, time for extra-curricular activities, I meet interesting people… And there is no snot-nosed brats to steal my stuff like at the orphanage." That was both a warning and a joke.

"I know where you are coming from…" The younger boy in front of Olivia muttered. "I was at an orphanage only two months… But I didn't like it at all."

The loss was very recent then. But better confirm it anyways.

"I'm sorry to hear that…" Olivia paused. "Well, I'm not sorry to hear that you didn't like the orphanage since you are out of there now… But I guess you lost your parents quite recently.

"In April…" Clive nodded stiffly. "Our apartment was next to the explosion in London and…" The boy swallowed thickly.

"Ah, I see. I read about the accident. What the papers managed to cover that is…" Olivia crossed her arms.

"What?"

"I guess you didn't get a chance to read newspapers while at orphanage?"

"No…"

"Well, the thing is that information is being withheld. They mention that an explosion happened at Institute of Polydimensional Physics and the block next to it was severely damaged… But nothing else. No causalities anywhere. No cause of explosion… One could say it's so people won't panic but…" Olivia crossed her arms. "For me it smells fishy."

Clive gave a thoughtful nod and silence reigned in the hallway.

"…I want to investigate this."

"Huh?" The girl blinked.

"I want to know what happened and why. I want to know why my parents had to die!"

Olivia remained silent for a moment after the boy's outburst. Then…

"I'll help."

* * *

 **Year 19X8, September, the Dove Residence**

It began as collecting newspaper articles that were suspicious. Anything that smelled funny to them. Constance found their interest amusing and thus humored them by giving the two several scrapbooks to fill. She was happy the two pre-teens were bonding. And thus Olivia and Clive devoted their time for their 'investigation' whenever they weren't at school or on the lessons of their private tutors. Likewise they decided to become better and better at their chosen subjects they wanted to pursue in future. Olivia with history and art, and Clive with engineering and journalism.

"Look at this." Clive showed a small, almost unnoticeable article to Olivia. "A man assaulted on a street and left to die."

"That's…" Whatever Olivia was about to say at first died in her throat when she read the name of the victim in question. "Hershel Layton?!"

"You know him?"

"Yeah… I went through some of my university options a couple of days ago…" The girl turned to riffle through some papers on her desk. For being a fine lady, she really didn't have her room look of the part.

"University? But you aren't even through secondary school yet!"

"Doesn't matter. Here. Gressenheller University. It's close to my school so I went to take a look earlier." The brochure was maroon of color with light yellow letters spelling the name. "It lists the professors teaching there. Hershel Layton is the professor of Archeology. Quite recent too, only got his name on this updated brochure."

"So you think this person is the same than the victim of this mugging?" Clive was skeptical. For understandable reasons. Olivia shrugged and leaned back in her chair.

"The name isn't most common one even though London is a big city."

Much more information wasn't found for a while after that. Not for lack of trying though. The biggest jackpot was hit in quite interesting circumstances.

* * *

 **Year 19Y0, November, Gressenheller Secondary school**

Olivia loved history. She loved ancient cultures, their art and customs. Everything. Even war tactics were fascinating to her. So she shone in class, eager to answer the teacher's questions and getting her answers right. Even though she really didn't like Mr. Mal Ire. He sounded like he came from an army base and also treated the class as such.

"A class trip?" Olivia's classmate asked. Her name was Marcela Candela, Italian born girl, quite nice but a bit quiet.

"Yes, isn't that exciting? I've heard that Norwell Wall is a great mystery for historians all over England, and we get to see it!" Olivia gushed.

"But why us and why now? We are only a bunch of fifteen-sixteen year olds…" Marcela frowned. "I haven't even ever heard of Norwell Wall."

"Well, yeah… I read that it used to be a tourist attraction once in the day when it was found but when it became clear that no one knows what the wall is supposed to be saying… The hype died down." Olivia shrugged. "And Mr. Malire says he is going to give us a test that decides which one of us can come."

"Why?"

"I don't know, Marcela. It is really weird though…"

Back then Olivia didn't suspect anything. Especially when the trip to the wall was in the end just a class trip among others. Except that Mr. Malire had kept a very close eye on every student he'd chosen to take with him. And that there had been shady looking people he claimed to be an excavation group. Their tour guide hadn't been too impressed by him either. But nothing there had made warning bells ring in Olivia's head.

* * *

"Here, Clive, a present for you." It was a big rolled up paper that Olivia gave to her brother after coming from the class trip.

"What is it?" The twelve year old had asked. Olivia sighed.

"Open it up and see."

Clive did. Inside the paper was a big watercolor painting. Of some giant door with funny scribbles.

"Isn't it grand?" Olivia grinned. "That's what we saw at the Wall. I had to beg a special permission to paint this but I managed to wrangle it once our tour guide, Mrs. Teresa Darling, came to my side. And thanks to my photographic memory I managed to finish the details at school."

"It's great, Olivia. But are you sure you want to give this to me?"

"Sure, why not? You are my baby brother." Olivia reached out a hand and messed with Clive's hair, much to the boy's annoyance.

"Hey!"

Yes, there had been nothing wrong that day. But on the day after. And if Clive hadn't gone to look for Olivia, no one could've known what happened to her.

* * *

"Miss Dove, if you could please stay come to my office after the lesson." Malire told the girl at the end of the day's lesson.

"Alright, sir." It was weird. Malire never asked to see anyone after the lessons. If he had something to say he told in front of the whole class, mostly embarrassing or even humiliating the recipient of the message. Even weirder was that he wanted to see her in his office. He let no one in. Not even the cleaners.

So Olivia gathered her books and went to look for Clive and inform him of the new turn of the day. If she was late from the next lesson… Well, it was only literature. She had enough of those lessons from her tutors.

* * *

Olivia waited outside Malire's classroom for the man to dismiss his last class. Her day had ended an hour earlier.

"Ah, Miss Dove. Punctual as usual. Good, good. That is a good quality." Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"Thank you, sir…" Olivia was wary now. Malire never complimented anyone.

"If you'd follow me now." Neither was he extremely polite to his students. Nevertheless Olivia followed him to the man's office. For some reason he made her walk in front of him, with his hand on her shoulder and fingers uncomfortably close to her neck.

"Sir, could you tell me why you wanted to talk with me? I need to hurry home you see."

"You are a bright student, Miss Dove. Very devoted to archeology too."

"I love history, yes."

"And I saw you take great interest in the Wall of Norwell, too."

"It was fascinating, yes." Olivia tried to keep the man talking. There was no one on the corridors. She was on her own and until she figured out a good escape plan…

 _Tack tack…_ The sound of faint footsteps. Olivia could see an office door ahead. Malire didn't seem to hear the steps.

"Tell me, Miss Dove… Have you ever heard of the Azrans?"

 _Tack tack…_ The steps were closer now. Malire still didn't seem to hear them.

"I can't say I have." Olivia began. "But my eyes… Have seen a lot." She stopped and in his confusion so did Malire.

"Oh, sir… Do you see?  
Do you see what these eyes of mine do?  
Have seen so much, eyes old and new.  
Same eyes with different people…  
Different eyes with same people…  
Oh, sir… Do you know?  
Do you know what these eyes of mine see on you?"

 _ **Thwack!**_ The man went down. Olivia turned around. Over the man stood Clive with lead pipe on his hands.

"They see greed and foul soul."

"Where did you hear that poem?" Clive asked wearily, huffing after the blow he just delivered on the man's head.

"I just came up with it. I needed to buy time for you. After all I hear everything I needed already." Olivia poked the man's head with the toes of her shoe. "Where did you get the pipe?"

"Janitor's supply room. Some leftover from the renovation last spring where they replaced the plumbing."

"I see… Let's get him to the office. I have a feeling we need to investigate more about this."

* * *

The Dove siblings dragged the man's heavy body into the office and tied him up with some rope they found from the office. Olivia decided she didn't want to know why the man had rope in his office.

"I have a feeling that these… Azrans are the key to all this." Olivia stated as she rummaged through Malire's desk drawers. "According to him Norwell Wall is Azran… I think. And because I have skills and interest in history and archeology. And he is shady."

"I see, I see…" Clive sighed, pulling a table cloth from a tea table and using it to make a make-shift gag for the unconscious man. "You think he was here to…"

"To get student for whatever Azran thing he wants to find. But if he doesn't work alone…"

"You are not being too hasty, are you now?"

"…" Olivia pulled an official looking file from the drawer…Underneath a fake bottom of that drawer. "I think I'm not being hasty at all. And even if I am hasty… Then it's for a good reason." She lifted up the file which was labelled by a date and place only: The day of explosion two years ago, Institute of Polydimensional Physics. And at the back of the file was one word written on bold letters: TARGENT.

"What?" Clive darted forward to grab the file. Olivia gave it to him without a fight. She wanted to know more about the Azrans Malire had mentioned. Especially if they were something archeological.

"Don't read it here, Clive. Put it to your backpack. We are taking everything we deem useful and can carry with us. And then we get rid of Malire one way or other."

"So you think that…" Clive opened his school bag and slipped the file in.

"That there is some sort of conspiracy going on? Yes, I do." Olivia pulled out several history books out of the bookshelf and put them in her own bag too. She also found more suspicious looking files that she decided to take with her. There also was a lot of paperwork. "Do you have a lighter, Clive?"

"Y-Yeah…" The boy looked up from the drawer he was inspecting. "Why do you want it though?"

"This guy was about sent some paperwork about me to someone… called Bronev. From the looks of things Malire is seeking a permission to recruit me… This envelope has my school records and all."

"So Malire guy and Bronev guy are…" Clive gave the lighter to the girl.

"Part of some sort of organization called TARGENT. If the files are to be trusted." Olivia nodded in agreement. "The information hasn't gone forward yet and I don't want it to either." She dropped the envelope in the metal rubbish bin in the corner and lit it up with the lighter. The flames began licking the paper eagerly.

"That also means we can't have him talking to anyone. Or anyone notice stuff has been taken." The boy pointed out while taking a look at the office. Then he swept a bunch of papers on the floor.

"Making a mess to hide stolen information… Why, Clive, one would think you are becoming a criminal." Olivia chuckled and began pulling books and files off the shelves and scattering them around.

"Anything to protect my sister." Came the answer while the drawers were being emptied.

"And this guy… We need beat him up good. Into coma or something." The girl frowned. "He is too heavy to be moved around so this place will do…"

"Break the lock before we leave so it looks like this place was broken into." A tea table was pushed over. Clive picked up his pipe again. "This pipe we need to take with us though. Less evidence we leave, the better."

"If people remember I was supposed to meet with him…"

"I doubt anyone will miss this man." Clive raised the pipe above his head and brought it down once more.

* * *

 **Year 19Z0, Future London, Olivia's apartment**

"That was the real beginning. When we realized we'd do anything for each other." Olivia sighed and turned to tie her hair up. She took a look on the yellow jacket laid on her bed and frowned.

"Olivia? Are you ready soon?" A young man's voice sounded from downstairs. It was Clive. Just today he had sent a letter to Professor Layton in the name of Luke Triton. Just today would be the time machine demonstration in the real London.

"Soon. I just need to put on the disguise." Olivia yelled back. She grabbed the jacket and pulled it on with a grim expression on her face.

"Whoa, no need to manhandle that garment, Livvy." Clive had appeared on the door way. Olivia glowered at him.

"Why Emmy Altava of all people?" She asked. "I couldn't have disguise as anyone else?"

"She is the one you have most information of… And you can't age yourself for this. You know that. We went through it just yesterday." The younger of the two sighed. "It will potentially expose our plan… and Luke Triton is more willing to forgive Altava than you."

"I know. But I still don't like it. What she did… was unforgivable."

* * *

 **A/N: Alright. I hope this woke your interest. In next chapter is more about what Olivia and Clive found from Malire's office. And also how they will proceed from there. Naturally the story will proceed to the prequel games(+movie) and only then to the original trilogy. Most likely Lost/Unwound Future scenes won't happen for a long time after this chapter.**

 **Wow, quite a bit of OCs in this first chapter. (plus some headcanons)**

 **-Malire: Targent operative. Recruiting at Gressenheller campus. Now in comatose. His name is a play with the word 'malice' but the latter part is replaced with 'ire'.**

 **-Teresa Darling nee Byrde: born and raised at Stanbury, works as a tour guide on her freetime. Used to have some sweet feelings for Randall Ascot. May be met at Monte d'Or. Name is a play with 'There is a darling' / 'There is a bird'. Enjoys birdwatching.**

 **-My year system: I placed PL games in the 1900's but for the sake of the headcanons we all have, I have replaced the decades with letters. X-Y-Z. For me they are 7-8-9 but for you they can be anything. The 60's will be W if I happen to write flashbacks to there.**

 **-Family names: So I have Clive as Marshall. I thought it appropriate for him. Olivia is a Brandt so now you know where the fanfic's name comes from.**

 **-Servants: I gave Spring, Cogg and Shipley assingments! Woot! \o/ Of course there are some maids and such to keep up the manor but those three are closest to the Dove siblings.**

 **I really hope this chapter wasn't too rushed. I sort of had a lot to say but they were sort fo fragmented... But... Until next time. Please review. It'd be nice to know if people are interested in this story and want to know more.**


	2. Escalation

**A/N: Oh, hey... I know I know I told to write to other fics... But this just came to me. This was way too easy to write. And you'll get some cameos in this chapter!**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Escalating too fast yet too slow**

 **Year 19Z0, Future London, Olivia's apartment**

The young woman barely held back a snarl of anger when she pulled on dark brown wig and a mask, the final pieces of her disguise. She couldn't help but remember the first time she'd met Emmy Altava. Not that Olivia had known the other girl's name at the time or remembered her face during later encounters.

"It's fine, it's fine. Just a day or two… Until Professor Layton blows this all up like he did with Professor Sycamore's plans." Olivia chanted under her breath as she checked from the mirror that the mask sat perfectly on her face.

She sighed dejectedly and went to the corridor. Before going down the starts, she stopped by one door and knocked softly on it.

"Al? Have you done your homework already?"

" _Yeah…"_ Came the answer form behind the door.

"Good. I don't know when I'll be back so make sure you eat and… don't stay up too late."

" _Sure."_

"Shipley might stop by. He has the key. Don't open the door to anyone else."

"I know…" The door was open now. A tuft of burgundy coloured hair was seen in the gap along with golden yellow eyes. "Be careful, sis."

"I will. And I will come back home as soon as possible." Olivia crouched on the floor and let the boy hug her. The foreign face didn't deter the kid at all. It was his sis behind it.

* * *

 **Year 19Y0, November, The Dove Residence**

"We're home!" The Dove siblings chorused as soon as they were inside the foyer and the door was firmly shut after them. Their cheeks were red from exertion and adrenaline of the events not even an hour ago.

"Welcome back, Miss Olivia, Young Master Clive." A maid, Maud, greeted the two. "How was your school day?"

"Umm…" Clive was at the loss of words so he concentrated on taking off his winter coat.

"Enlightening." Olivia provided, letting Maud take her hat and coat. "We'll be at my room, doing our homework. If you please would sent tea for us, it'd be most kind. But knock before entering." The girl instructed quickly.

"Of course." Maud nodded, gathering the sibling's coats on her arms and left.

"Let's go before someone else obstructs our way."

The two dumped the papers and books they'd stolen on the floor of Olivia's room. Clive was immediately reading he file Olivia had shown him. The one probably related to the explosion.

"Time-machine?!" The boy exclaimed. "They paid for some Bill Hawks to test their energy source in his and some other guy's time-machine?"

"Bill Hawks? Isn't be a politician? I hear in couple of years he's aiming for Prime Minister's seat." Olivia frowned. "He used to be a nobody but I guess that's where he got the money for his campaign…"

"Disgusting." Clive gritted his teeth while pouring over the file. "Utterly disgusting."

"I guess that money was used to keep the press and other sources silent too."

"Do you think I can find this other guy involved? Doctor… Dimitri Allen?"

"Wait for a couple of years a finish your schooling before doing anything drastic." The girl advised. There was a knock on the door and Olivia went to open it. There was Maud with the tea tray. "Thank you Maud. Was this all?"

"Mistress expresses her wish for you to join her on the dinner in few hours."

"Tell Granny Constance that we will. Hopefully we are finished by then."

"Yes." Maud curtseyed and left. Olivia carried the tray on a side table and poured two cups of tea. Taking a sip of the perfectly brewed tea, she looked down at her brother pouring over all the papers on the floor.

"Find anything else interesting?"

"Malire… Has been recruiting during the past years. Looking for more archeologists and funding… He even visited Granny Constance four years ago." Clive frowned and picked another paper. It was a newspaper clipping of a house fire somewhere in the countryside.

"What's that?" Olivia held out her hand for the paper. " _'Sycamore residence burns down'_? This is from last week!"

"It says no one survived but in the other hand there was trouble recognizing the bodies."

"Desmond Sycamore was a renowned archeologist and scientist… I've read some articles he published before he got married. I guess he wanted to devote more time for his family."

"Yeah…Malire's records who that he visited the residence over a year ago, trying to persuade the man to work for this organization called Targent. The answer was negative."

"So they gave him some time to change his answer before getting rid of him?" Olivia sat on the floor next to Clive.

"It seems so. It's very unlikely that anyone survived that fire."

"Pity. I'd liked to meet him. He sounded like a fascinating person."

"Really?"

"Yes. And what I find suspicious is the timing… This happened a week ago. An exactly the next day Malire decided to take some chosen history students to Norwell Wall… That can't be a coincidence."

* * *

 **Year 19Y0, November, Gressenheller Secondary School**

"Olivia, did you hear, did you hear?" Marcela came running through the masses of students, somehow nimbly dodging every single one of them.

"Did I hear what?" Olivia asked resignedly although she had an inkling to what was the gossip in question this time.

"Mr. Malire! He was found beaten in his office. And the office was really turned up-side down!" The Italian explained with wide brown eyes. Doe eyes.

"Is that so? I think I heard sirens earlier." Olivia mused.

"Olivia, this is serious!"

"Why? The guy was an… an arse. I doubt anyone will miss him. Whatever he did to anger someone to that degree… Well, good luck for the police to find the culprit. He made enemies throughout the campus. From teachers to students to faculty." Olivia gestured the people around them. The other girl gave a thoughtful nod.

"True… I didn't really like him either. Police will surely struggle. I hear it is some junior inspector or something leading the case. Bloom I think…" Marcela frowned as she tried to remember the name. "He looked quite dreamy to be honest."

"I see… Let's hope he has as much skills as looks then."

* * *

During the next week the police milled about the campus area, visiting also the university buildings few blocks over. Students were interviewed occasionally but no one could tell anything but their honest opinions of the man. Nothing much to help catching the culprit. Or the weapon Malire was assaulted with. From the grape wine Olivia did find out that the man was in a hospital, in deep coma. There was no telling whether or not he'd ever wake up.

And then someone blabbed on Olivia. Bloody Toby Broodle. So Olivia was asked to come into questioning. Questioning, not interrogation. Nevertheless, Clive was in the known once again, armed with a telescope this time and in the wait outside the window. Thankfully the room the police was using was in the ground floor.

"So, Miss Dove… I hear Mr. Malire asked to meet you after lessons?" Leonard Bloom walked in front of the desk at which Olivia was sitting.

"He did."

"Did you meet with him?"

"I waited outside his last class because I don't know where his office is." It was true. Before that day, she hadn't known where Malire worked when he wasn't in a classroom. "But he told me to meet on the day after instead. He seemed… busy."

"So you left the campus then?"

"Yes. Because I had already stayed an hour later than normally on Wednesdays I hurried home."

"Did you notice anything odd in Mr. Malire's demeanor that day?"

"Aside from wanting to see me after classes? No, sir." Olivia closed her eyes and shook her head gently. All the while gathering her thoughts. She needed to divert the police inspector's attention elsewhere than her. Malire's behavior was perfect bait for them.

"What was so unusual in that request then? Don't teachers ask to meet students occasionally. Especially if it's about falling grades." Bloom frowned slightly, thinking.

"Not Mr. Malire, sir. He never asked students to meet after classes. He always told things publicly to them. The way he berates people when they fail in quizzes… It's humiliating to both the target and the listeners. That's why it was so unusual. And I don't mean to brag but I'm one of the best in our class. My grades were not in any danger unless he had something personal against me. But I was not aware of any of his thoughts towards me. I'm just a student, female at that, among others."

"Hmm… Maybe he was expecting to meet someone then…" Bloom muttered to himself, turning towards the window. "You may go now, Miss Dove. And take your bodyguard with you."

"Ah!" Olivia couldn't help but have blush rising on her cheeks. "Sorry, sir. My brother is very worried about me."

"…That's what brothers do, don't they?" Bloom smiled slightly and nodded to the girl. "Have a good day, Miss Dove. Thank you for the information you provided."

"Likewise, sir. I wish your investigation will be fruitful." Olivia curtseyed like it was expected of the girl of her standing and exited the room. Fooling the inspector seemed to have been a success.

* * *

"I'm sorry Olivia. He caught me off guard." Clive sighed once meeting up with the girl.

"It's alright. He doesn't suspect anything. We should hurry home soon though. It's fencing today."

"Argh… I hate fencing." The boy groaned. During the two years he'd lived in Dove residence, fencing had been one of the new lessons he'd been introduced to under the watchful eyes of private tutors.

"Which is why I'm better than you. You don't have light enough of a step nor a motivation to perfect your technique."

"I still don't get why you wanted to take up the lessons when I had to."

"You needed an equal partner to learn along with and keep up the competition. And I find the subject interesting. Especially considering how sword fighting has been a vital part of many conflicts in history. It was the way to fight before guns were invented."

"And the future scholar in you is talking again."

"You know very well that I'm never going to be a scholar." Olivia sighed. "I'll be taking over the Dove Residence and continue what Granny Constance is doing now."

"And I also know that your nature won't allow you to sit still and become a mere decoration shown around in social functions."

* * *

 **Year 19Y1, January, Gressenheller Secondary School**

"Marcela, what's wrong? You look so thin and pale…" Olivia laid a hand on her friend's shoulder.

"I shouldn't worry you with my problems." Marcela smiled sadly.

"You are my friend. Of course I worry about you."

"No, I really shouldn't."

"Just tell me…"

"I lost my job. Some months ago when Miss Mary died. I've been living off my savings but haven't been able to find a new job."

Olivia frowned. Gressenheller wasn't the cheapest place to study yet Marcela was here. If she also had to work… There was some huge contradiction in there.

"I have a benefactor. He pays for my schooling. But everything else I need to take care of myself." Marcela explained kindly.

"What about your parents?"

"My mother passed away a while back. I never knew my father."

"I'm sorry to hear that. What sort of work did you do?"

"I was a maid. It didn't pay too much but I had a room, food, nice environment to study when I had the time… Now my money has gone into a cheap motel room…"

"I think we could always do with another maid…" Olivia mused aloud. "Martha is retiring soon anyways. She is getting married and her husband can provide for them both."

"I couldn't ask you such thing! I don't even have any official qualifications!"

"Don't worry, Marcela. I'll vouch for you. You are my friend so this is the least I can do for you."

"Th-Thank you!" The Italian threw herself at Olivia. "Thank you so much, Miss Olivia!"

"H-Hey, I'm not one of your employers yet. You can just call me Olivia." The girl laughed.

* * *

 **Year 19Y1, February, Unknown location**

Olivia tied her hair up and put a blue cap on to cover them. She pulled a blue uniform jacket that she'd taken from a Targent goon on too. The man in question was stripped down to his underwear, tied up and deep asleep. He had a large men's trench coat tossed on him so he wouldn't freeze to death. Olivia wouldn't need it anymore anyways. Besides it was just something she'd had Cogg buy from a secondhand store.

"Right… Here we go." She slipped a pair of sunglasses on her face stepped on the yard surrounded by a fence. Cars were driving around with or without cargo and similarly dressed people. No one paid any attention to her. They all were so generic and faceless. She didn't stand up.

The girl made her way to the closest buildings and into the rooms of them. They weren't anything special. Just some archives of some really old stuff behind decades. Financial records, coordinates… Normally Olivia would've stopped to take a look at them but now she was looking for a map of the facility. She needed to find a way to the top offices if he wanted any up to date information.

Once finding the map… An alarm sounded in the area.

"This will be tricky." Olivia muttered. Figures were running outside. One agent burst into the archives. A round and short one. Olivia gripped the knife she had in her pocket.

"Agent Knight! We need all the hands on board! Quickly before he gets away."

Olivia took a second to realise the man was confusing her with the guy she'd taken the uniform from. They looked quite similar in a sense. Roundish face, short stature(she was only sixteen, she'd grow some more) and average weight. The sunglasses made a good job in obscuring her face some more along with the dim lighting of the room.

"The same guy again?" Olivia asked with a gruff voice.

"Yes, but this time we'll get him. Jean Descole, the criminal won't be running for long. Not if I, agent Bishop have anything to say."

"Good. Go get agent… Rook." Chesspieces, really? "And make sure the criminal won't get to the fuel storages. If this place goes up in smoke, boss won't be happy. I'll go to secure the upper offices."

"Yessir! Getting agent Rook right away sir!" And the agent dashed away.

"That's… That was easier than I though." Olivia pulled her cap down on her face and left the archives with the map with her.

* * *

Making her way to the highest office (literally) in the area wasn't easy. There was several locks to be opened. Some she managed with the keys she'd swiped but some were harder. They were puzzles of all things! Why puzzles? What was their point especially when some of the agents seemed to be idiots like Bishop. Maybe she'd find out later.

But Olivia found the place. No one was in there but from the interior it was clear the owner of the office wasn't like other people at the place. Not to mention that the puzzle on the door was much harder than any of the other ones.

"So many artifacts in here… Is this guy an archeologist?" Olivia mused and made her way quickly to the desk. She didn't know how long she had until the hassle caused by the other intruder – she noticed through the window some cloaked figure running in the yard manically while the agents chased after him – was blown over.

Some of the drawers were locked. With a hairpin Olivia made a quick work on opening them. She'd been practicing with manor and school locks since October so she'd become quite proficient on the art. Olivia went quickly through the papers and took only what she saw would be actual use of her but not be immediately missed. She was certain that she couldn't go to the police about Targent so there was a lot of papers she wouldn't have any use to. So she concentrated on something she could understand and study later. Like texts about archeology. The books she'd taken from Malire had been quite generic and hadn't actually contained much about the Azran civilization. Maybe as a recruiter the man hadn't known much either. Just a bit higher of a rank than the regular goons… But this guy… Whoever owned the office. He had some serious stuff. Translations, sketches, notes…

"Jackpot." Olivia whispered and stored the papers inside a flat bag she had underneath her Targent uniform jacket. She closed the drawers that she'd already inspected and went to take a look on the objects on the bookshelves and side tables. She didn't have a camera with her but a small sketch book she did. Olivia drew the carvings seen on stones and other artifacts. She didn't have much time left…

"What are you doing here?" A female (quite young) voice asked angrily. Olivia turned slowly to look at the woman standing in her doorway. The person was maybe a bit older than her. She had curly brown hair and wearing Targent uniform. "This is Uncle Leon's… The boss's office when he comes to this place, no one is authorized to be here when he isn't!"

"Then what are _you_ doing here?" Olivia asked smoothly dropping the gruff voice she used to Bishop since the beginning and slipped her drawing utensils into her pocket. "If _no one_ is authorized."

"I… I had a permission. And! That's not the point! All workers know that boss's office is out of bounds." The young woman continued. Boss's office? Jackpot indeed.

"Ho? Is that so?" Olivia let a smile spread on her face. She needed a plan and quick. That agent must not sound yet another alarm.

"You are spy, aren't you?"

"What if I am? Targent has a way to destroy lives, don't you think?"

"Then I'll stop you myself." That was both good and bad thing. Good because the woman wasn't running off to alert others. Bad because Olivia had no idea how good that woman was in fighting. Because a fight was definitely going to ensue now. Olivia needed something longer than arm. The girl glanced around the room. Where, where… There!

"Keep your eyes on me!" The woman ran forward and jumped to attack Olivia. The girl ducked and rolled underneath the woman, towards her chosen weapon. It wasn't anything special. Just a discarded pipe. The corner of the room seemed to have some repairs in progress but since _'no one is authorized'_ it was work in progress.

Olivia grabbed the pipe and turned around just in time to meet with the next attack, a kick aimed at her head. The pipe was different size, shape and weight than her _foil_ but it'd do.

"This'll do just fine." Olivia smirked as she swung the pipe and unbalanced the attacker. Thanks to the pipe's weight she had much more power behind swings. But there was no time to idle. Olivia charged, aiming a jab to the woman's midsection. It was dodged just barely. When the woman was about to retaliate and grab the weapon, Olivia was quick to jump to the side and prepare for the next attack.

"You can't win, girl, I've trained among the Targent's best since I was a child."

"I admit… I do not have the experience you seem to have but I'm no rookie either." Olivia spoke, crouching slightly and pointing the pipe at the woman. En garde. "And sometimes… sometimes even experience has to bow down to intuition." And she attacked.

* * *

It was a swift blow in the head that rendered the woman unconscious and lying on the carpeted floor of the office. Olivia stood still, breathing heavily. The fight hadn't lasted long but it had been quite strenous for her. It had been only luck that allowed her to win. On top of that, Olivia was getting a sense of déjà vu from the situation.

"Good pipe. I think I'll be keeping this." The girl mused, turning to leave the office. The way out was much quicker since now she knew the route. The things on the yard had quietened down. Presumably that Descole guy had gotten away.

"Agent Knight! We secured the fuel storages with agent Bishop as instructed and kept them safe from the intruder." A tall agent with narrow chin and long nose saluted briefly. Olivia assumed this was Rook then. Time to pretend to be Knight then.

"Good job, agent Rook. I was successful in my own mission too." The girl paused for a moment and pushed 'her' sunglasses up on her face to cover better her eyes. Thankfully she hadn't sustained any injuries during her fight with the strange woman, visible or not. "Say… Is any of the cars leaving for the city soon for a supply run?"

"Truck seven and eight are about to leave in few minutes sir."

"Thank you, agent Rook." Olivia nodded curtly, saluting halfheartedly. "You may go now."

"Sir, yessir!"

Olivia let the man leave her field of vision before making her way to the trucks. Number eight was still loading something but seven was already full.

"Any room for another passenger? I've been reassigned." She asked almost resignedly, mimicking Maud when someone asked her to make a run to the fishmarket. No one here seemed to recognize her but it also seemed to be a norm. Apparently only Rook and Bishop worked frequently with Knight. Maybe that's why the themed codenames.

"Sure, lass, we'll be leaving right away."

"Brill'." Olivia climbed swiftly on the passenger seat and closed the door behind. Via the side mirror she risked a glance at the office buildings. It seemed that the woman hadn't alerted anyone yet.

* * *

The truck drove to the closest city. The same one that Olivia had trekked from to the base. Name of which was Coop. Like the little house where chicken's lived in. Weird way to name a secret base.

"Thank you." Olivia told the driver when she was dropped off at train station. She immediately made her way to the lockers where she stowed away her backpack and regular clothes. Next stop was the bathroom where she changed into a dark green jacket and knee-length woolen skirt. With a scarf securely around her head and covering her hair, and the uniform in her bag, she looked like a regular commuter catching the evening train back to London.

On the way to buy her ticket, Olivia let herself smile. The plan had been a success.

* * *

 **A/N: And this chapter is done! A lot happened. A lot needed to be gotten out of the way. I hope Olivia doesn't come off... too multi-talented.**

 **Thank you for the two who've put this story in their watch. It meakes me really happy to know there is people following this actively/passively.**

 **Some more OCs and headcanons:**

 **-Maud the Maid: Probably my favourite OC this far. She was a spur of moment. She hates the smell of fish and otherwise quite expressionless.**

 **-Marcela Candela: She used to work as a maid? What could this possibly mean? And who is her 'benefactor'? Tune in for the next chapters.**

 **-Toby Broodle: Enemy! The name is a pun for 'Though be brutal'. I got the 'broodle' from Ace Attorney: Trials and Tribulations where they had a Canadian judge and that's how he pronounced brutal. Toby probably won't be appearing in person.**

 **-Coop and Knight: C'mon they have Nest and Roost(maybe?). Why not Coop? Knight was natural choice to the agent since they also have Bishop and Rook.**

 **-Sycamores: They are dead! Some of you may wonder why they remained alive so long after Malire's visit... Well, there was some stuff going on in the background. And Malire doesn't have a habit of reporting his failures... But what about Desmond Sycamore who was pronounced dead too?! It will be explained too. In next two chapters I'd wager...**

 **-Olivia playing a spy: What did you expect from her?**

 **-Cameos: I bet you recognized the woman Olivia fought with. And whether or not Olivia fooled Bloom... that's up to you.**

 **()**

 **This is all for now. Please review. And what do you think about making Emmy Asian-born? I've seen some headcanons regarding that. Or about Twoscoles? Shipping suggestions are relatively open too.**


	3. Calm before storm

**A/N: Ooh, hey guys... I updated this again. For some reason I really don't have any inspiration for other fics... I'll try my best though. I promise. I got some days before school starting too so that's a plus. Okay? :)**

* * *

 **Chapter 3. Lull in the up-coming storm**

 **Year 19Y1, February, the Dove Residence**

It was late. Olivia collapsed on her bed. She had made it home. She was safe now. She could relax now. Only Clive knew where she'd been off to that day and no one else. Not even Constance did. But then, the older lady had been attending a charity event that day.

There was a knock on the door and Clive stepped into the room. He was dressed in his pajamas and a blue bathrobe.

"Everything alright?" The boy asked, closing the door behind and kicking his slippers off his feet. The socked feet padded across the carpeted floor, to the boy's sister.

"Yeah. I'm back now." Olivia scooted over to let the boy sit next to her on the bed. Clive sat down and promptly draped himself over the girl. Thankfully he hadn't hit a growth spurt yet but it didn't stop the boy giving the girl hugs whenever it was deemed suitable and/or necessary. Right now it was both and Olivia was only happy to hold the boy.

"I was worried." He muttered against Olivia's shoulder. He had thrown his legs across her lap and was hugging her around her waist. It was like Clive was trying to make himself smaller than he actually was. Olivia knew this behavior. She had been the person to soothe the boy's night terrors full of flames and loss. Clive was afraid he'd lose her like he lost his parents. It made him feel powerless and instead of trying to become bigger to overcome them, he tried to hide and seek reassurance.

"I know. But I'm back now. I'm safe now, not going anywhere." Olivia whispered, rubbing the boy's back. Tomorrow maybe they'd go through her findings but right now she'd rather enjoy her brother's company.

"Can I…" Clive began but stopped himself. The question was too embarrassing for him to ask. He was almost thirteen after all! But Olivia knew what he was asking. To stay with her for the night just like when they were younger.

"Of course you can stay. I'll just go to wash myself and change into my nightie. You wait here, okay?"

"Okay."

Olivia moved Clive to the wall-side of her bed and picked herself up. She untied her hair and grabbed her bathrobe and nightie from the chair Maud had put them ready for her. Before leaving the room from another door to her ensuite bathroom, she glanced at Clive who was already burrowed underneath covers. He looked so young like that. And sometimes it was easy to forget both his age and the time he'd actually spent at the house. The boy was so wrapped up in his studies and revenge and helping Olivia that…

" _He is only twelve now. It has been only two and half years since he became my brother. And he has grown too much during this time."_

* * *

The siblings slept peacefully through the night. No one disturbed them. Not even Maud who brought tea to them in the morning hours, or Marcela who for some reason was immensely curious about Olivia's comings and goings.

Next day the information Oliva brought was spread on the floor again and the duo went through it. Much was discovered about the Azran's now. Well, much considering that Olivia had known next to nothing about them.

"Apparently the Azran were really into puzzles. That explains why the locks were like that at the Coop." Olivia told Clive while organizing the papers into relatively neat stacks. "And with these runes I might be able to decipher what Norwell Wall says…"

"How did the… mission go overall?" Clive asked behind the file he was flipping through.

"I… I got in just fine. And found a map to the offices. I managed to fool the agents…" The girl trailed off. Her brother looked up and arched his eye brows at her, giving her _a look_.

"But?"

"I was caught at the office. Apparently no one is allowed in whilst the boss isn't using it."

"I see… How did you get away then?"

"I fought and knocked that agent unconscious. But it was just luck though." Olivia sighed dejectedly. "I need to start training both stamina and combat if I want to keep going like this."

"People will ask questions." Clive pointed out. He put the file down and reached for the tea tray on the nearby table. The water wasn't quite lukewarm yet so it was probably drinkable.

"It's true but I've been thinking… What if we changed from foil to epee?"

"The fencing style between them is different and epee is heavier. Not to mention that women are not allowed to-…"

"I'm not training for any competitions! I just want to learn. And epee's style is… I think it'd be more suitable for me. More target area and with heavier sword I'd be automatically forced to build muscle mass."

"Well, when you put it like that…" Clive shrugged. "I'll help you."

* * *

 **Year 19Y1, June, Stansbury**

"Mrs. Darling? Are you in here?" Olivia knocked on the open front door of a small cozy-looking house. In no time a cheery woman emerged from the kitchen, wearing an apron and holding a spoon. She had wheat colored hair and bright blue eyes and despite being obviously pregnant, is was seen she was in good fit.

"Ah, Miss Dove! Glad to have you here!" Teresa Darling nee Byrde greeted the girl. "Come in, come in. I'd shake hands but they are all flour-y."

"It's alright Mrs. Darling."

"Oh, please! Call me Teresa. I'm only twenty-eight!" The woman chirped, leading the way back to the kitchen where she gestured Olivia to take and seat and herself she grabbed a bowl of dough she continued mixing. "Your call came quite suddenly I apologize the mess and the fact I don't have much to offer here. Would you like some tea though?"

"Tea would be lovely." Olivia smiled. "I can make it if you are tied up with the baking."

"Thank you dear. We can then feast with freshly baked biscuits and some finely brewed tea. It's not often that we get visitors from the great London."

"I noticed it was quite quiet here…"

"Yes… It's been like that for years already. Ever since…" Teresa quietened down. Silence reigned and then the woman dumped the dough on the floured kitchen table and began working it with a rolling pin, making it gradually flatter and wider. Olivia was afraid to break the silence so she just filled the tea pot and put it on the stove.

"Do you know why I am a tour guide for Norwell Wall despite the lack of tourism here?" The woman spoke suddenly.

"I… don't. But it is indeed quite strange when one starts thinking about it…" Olivia frowned.

"It's been… many years already. Thirteen or something. The ruins claimed a life of teenage boy. The popularity of them had been in decrease for years already, ever since the hype of their discovery died down, but when he disappeared and was never found…" Teresa trailed off but Olivia could pick up the thought from there.

"It scared the rest of interested parties away."

"Your class was the first one in ages to come and see the ruins." The blonde snorted gently and pulled some loose strands behind her ear.

"Did you… Did you know the boy who… disappeared?" Olivia asked carefully.

"Oh, yes! Randall Ascot. The heir of second richest family here, right after Dalstons." The woman picked up speed in the rolling. "He was a year older than I, we knew since we were little. I was such a shy little thing back then but he became my best friend. Randall was a real social butterfly though and had many friends but he was _my_ only friend. Naturally I was jealous whenever he spent time with his other friends because I was too shy to approach them…"

"How did you get to know each other?"

"Randall was an explorer at heart ever since he was a kid. Always seemed to have a project or other in his mind, a backpack and a shovel with him and more often than not his valet, Henry, with him. I in the other hand liked to watch birds and mimic their voices. I was the first kid in town to have their own binoculars… And that got Randall's attention." Teresa laughed. "His boisterous attitude intimidated me so much at first but somehow he managed to gain me as a sidekick too. The three of us… Randall, Henry and I, would easily investigate and dig at the backyards of the houses, trying to find treasures, all day long."

Teresa picked a round biscuit mold and began pressing circular marks on the dough. Meanwhile Olivia moved the teapot from the stove and added some tea leaves in.

"I didn't like the new kid, Hershel Layton at first. I guess I never learnt to like him. But he attracted Randall's attention. They had similar interests I think. At least after Randall was through him. Anyways, that afro-head became the new side kick. With Henry having new responsibilities at the Ascot manor and me being a year younger than the two… We sort of drifted apart. I still did see Randall. He remembered my birthday every year and would bring a present to me personally. I was the person he confided in first about his crush on Angela Ledore… It was I that…" Teresa cute herself off. "I was quite possessive over him back then… Because he was so suddenly taken away from all of us I didn't really have a chance to get over him."

"You loved him very much, didn't you?" Olivia confirmed.

"Yes. I envied Angela when she began dating Randall. I didn't like Hershel because he had the status of being Randall's best friend. I began resenting even Henry whom Randall saw as a brother. I didn't know what I was to him anymore. And before I could ask… He was gone. Down the ruins of Akbadain.

"It broke all of us apart. Layton left to London I think… The guilt and Angela's blaming words weighing him down. Angela sank into despair and almost gave into her nagging parents who told her to marry Alphonse Dalston. Henry… He began looking for Randall. He seemed to have a firm belief that Randall was not dead. I joined him. Reunion Inn became our headquarters, Ascot family promised to pay a lot of money to anyone who found their son, I learnt the ruins almost by heart by the time Henry and I found the treasure within. Eventually Henry proposed Angela, I found a love in one Hector Darling who was part of one rescue team, and Monte d'Or began to grow around Reunion Inn." The cookies were now in the oven and Teresa took off her apron.

"Are the searches still going on?"

"Yes. My husband and Henry both are the main figures in organizing them. I help when I can but right now…" The woman patted her swollen belly. "I've been taking easy." She smiled, practically glowing. It was amazing how freely she showed her emotions and quickly they could change depending on the topic of conversation. Olivia herself was more used in masking her own emotions so she'd be underestimated and left alone. The few social functions the girl had attended were also places where all you could see was masks after masks.

The two females drank tea and ate cookies while discussing. Teresa had a lot of stories to tell of Stansbury when she was younger and Olivia shared some gossip from school.

"To think Layton became a professor of archeology… He always seemed so disinterested of the subject and tagged along with Randall because he had nothing better to do…" Teresa scoffed and blew gently in her tea.

"It seems like Randall had a lot of influence in all of you." Olivia smiled.

"Oh, that he did." There was a sigh. "When the exploring teams were being formed I forced myself to interact with the team members. All my emotions were so raw back then. Meeting Hector… Rescuing him from one of the traps and later him rescuing me... I learnt not to hide behind others anymore. There was no one to hide behind after all. And now Henry and Angela are both at their house in Monte d'Or with Mrs. Ascot. Layton is in London. I… I am here, waiting for news." The woman paused and gave a searching look to Olivia.

"Teresa?" The girl asked with the frown.

"There is an expedition in September. We could use some archeological knowledge there. I'm sure you'd enjoy it too."

"M-Me? But I'm just a smart set girl from London. I do study history and I've considered continuing into archeology but there is no way I could… I mean, it's not suitable for a girl to go exploring some ancient ruins. Especially not of my position."

"Oh, dear Olivia…" Teresa laughed. "You can explain all you want but you can't lie to me! I can see it in your eyes. A spark of adventure! The same one I used to see in Randall's eyes. No one will care of your position once there as long as you can contribute. And I'm sure you can. Fresh blood and all that. You are the same age now than Randall was back when he entered the ruins. And if nothing else, consider this as a thanks for listening me ramble."

"If you really think I could…"

"I'll talk to Henry. I'm sure he'll let you join. Same with Hector. He'll be leading once again. And of course there is a lot of time for you to think about this. I just remember… That you were one of the few people in a long time to be actually excited about the Wall of Norwell." Teresa smiled wistfully and sipped her tea. Olivia drank some from her cup too.

"I'll think about it."

* * *

 **Year 19Y1, September, Reunion Inn of Monte d'Or**

"This girl? Ya sure, Hector?" A gruff voice belonging to one of the rescue team members asked from Mr. Darling. "I know tha' yer wife's havin' a kid soon but this girl 'as barely graduated."

"My wife personally recommended her." Hector replied smoothly while adjusting the straps of his backpack. "And Mr. Ledore had no objections. I hope you don't have either Patrick."

"Nah… But the girl better watch after 'erself. I'm no babysitter and this is no fancy picnic."

"The girl is right here." Olivia pointed out with gritted teeth. "I can take care of myself thank you very much." She glared at Patrick for a moment before turning to speak with Hector. "Thank you very much for taking me with you, I promise not to be a burden."

"It's alright. We men need someone to keep us in order, don't we, mates?" There was some laughter among the men while Patrick just huffed and glared. "Anyways… If my wife vouches for you, I trust you to know what you are doing. Whatever it is that she saw on you… I won't question it. She knows people very well."

"I understand."

"She did tell me that you have interest in the archeology. So if you happen to see something of interest there that you want to study more closely, tell one of us. No one will stay behind alone. The ruins are dangerous place."

"Yes, sir!" Olivia nodded enthusiastically. She still could barely believe that she'd gathered enough courage to go and also gotten a permission from Constance to go.

" _I have business meeting on the next day here. Someone coming to ask funding. You just go an enjoy yourself. Have a chance to be young before you have to take over this estate."_ The old lady had told her. _"And… use your previous family name. It should allow you more space and less controversy."_

"Olivia Brandt is ready to work." It was her first appearance with that name publicly. But surely not the last.

"That's the spirit! Now we only need to wait for Mr. Ledore and we can leave. He said he'd be joining us this time."

* * *

The ruins were… great. They were creepy and dark but also exciting and interesting. Olivia was in stitches. She kept close to the other team members but occasionally asked to stop so she could copy the marks on the walls.

"What do you have in there?" One of the explorers, Marcus, asked the girl, tapping the tube strapped on her back. It was almost a meter long and 15 centimeters by diameter. It was indeed quite strange item to have along with her backpack. Olivia turned to look at him. The young man was quite good-looking. Messy brown hair, eyes of similar color and a good built torso.

"It's for papers. Artists use them for bigger papers that can't be folded and don't fit into folders. I roll them up and put them into the tube so they don't get damaged." Olivia explained and gestured then at the walls. "I need some big papers in order to copy the large patterns."

"Quite… Quite a lot of paper then." Marcus mused.

"It's… It's not all paper."

"It isn't?"

"No. The tube is double one. The papers are between the two tubes and can be accessed from the toplid. But from the bottom lid I can access the item inside the inner compartment."

"And… What is inside that compartment then?" Oh, the young man was obviously curious now.

"That's…" Olivia paused for a moment before winking. "…a secret."

"Oh, really?" Marcus sounded like he was ready to answer the challenge. Whatever the challenge may be.

"Well…Let's just say that I heard there is still a lot of traps everywhere here. Falling floors, rolling stones, self-moving mummies… I simply have something to defend myself with."

As a response she got a skeptical eyebrow raise. Well, let them belittle her because of her age and gender. She'd show them when a trap was sprang. Olivia hadn't trained like mad during the past months for nothing.

And right on her words, the next room contained mummies. This far the puzzles had been making the stones roll and clear the path. Not a challenge really when there were muscular men around to make things roll and some logical team members telling which stone to push and when. Even Olivia had had her chance to shine with one room.

But there was mummies. Spinning around with nasty looking curvy swords in their hands. Olivia had to admit that the Azran definitely knew what they were doing. She could see what in that ancient civilization had fascinated Targent. It still didn't excuse their actions though…

"Marcus, you wanted to know what I have in the inner compartment of the paper tube, right?" Olivia asked while backing towards the other members of the expedition team. They were surrounded by the spinning mummies. Hector and Patrick were aiming their rifles at the mummies while Marcus and Mr. Ledore both had metal staffs in their hands. Other men also readied what weapons they happened to have.

"Yeah, now would be the most opportune time to find out."

"Quit yapping, ya two an' fight!" Patrick barked right then and shot at one of the mummies. The bullet sank into the wrapped body but didn't deter the spinning at all. And now they were approaching. Olivia opened the bottom of the tube and let her sword fall into her hand. It had been her seventeenth birthday present from Constance. The woman had terrifying intuition. The sword was a real old fashioned one with real, sharp narrow blade, decorative hand guard and steady grip. Not those flimsy fencing ones that Olivia was honestly fed up with.

With the sword in her hand, Olivia cut upwards at one of the 'hands' of the closest spinning mummy, half-incapacitating it.

"You were saying?" She asked without removing her gaze from her opponent. This was a real fight now. No rules. No room for mistakes either.

"Everyone, aim to the hands. And keep an eye on the floor too." Mr. Ledore instructed. "Last time these mummies were encountered was over a year ago but the same methods still apply."

"The floor puzzle again then?" Marcus mused. "I guess I'll handle it then. You guys keep the mummies busy."

"Is that your specialty?" Olivia asked, cutting the other hand of her mummy and moving on the next one.

"You could say so. My father is a plumber. Seeing patterns like this is something I've learnt since I was a kid."

"Do it." Hector ordered, whacking a mummy in the head with his rifle. "I had forgotten bullets won't work on these buggers."

With team work, luck and some amount of logic the mummies were lead into a hole at the edge of the room in various states of 'injuries'. The group was catching their breath when Olivia spoke up.

"Well, that was funny." She grinned, much to the surprise and astonishment of many.

* * *

 **Year 19Y1, September, the Dove Residence**

On the next day Olivia made her way back to London and to the manor. While the group hadn't discovered more riches this time, the archeological information gathered was more than enough for the girl. What's more, she had apparently impressed some of the team members had been allowed to join on the next quest if she happened to have time. Olivia couldn't wait for it. She also couldn't wait for sharing her experiences with Clive and Constance. And maybe with Maud and Marcela, too.

The girl opened the back door and made her way silently to upstairs where Maud took her jacket and boots. The both females remembered that Constance had a business meeting today so the front door, foyer and the sitting room in the ground floor were all out of use by her orders.

Olivia left her backpack and the tube in her room and decided to look for Clive. After minutes of searching and a helpful tip from Spring, she found him by the stairs, looking down at foyer and the open door of the sitting room.

"They've been there for an hour." Clive stated once Olivia stepped up next to him. "Civil enough but it isn't like I actually hear anything from here unless they…" He got cut off when Constance raised voice drifted out of the sitting room.

" _I'm may be old but well past my prime but I'm not neither blind nor naïve."_

" _Ma'am… I did not mean to insult…"_

" _I asked you to remove your glasses before these discussions for a reason. I don't like when people hide things from me. Eyes are to be seen by conversation partners to convey trust. To be read and met during the course of clashing verbal blades."_

" _I don't know what you are aiming at with this, Mrs. Dove."_

" _I know those eyes of yours Leon Bronev. They belonged to a man passionate of his studies. A man who despite this put his family before everything. Not to a man working and leading this shady_ _ **cult**_ _named Targent."_

At those words the siblings gasped silently and looked at each other. This was something neither of them had anticipated.

* * *

 **A/N: Cliffhanger! Dun dun dun duuun! But what did you think? I decided to introduce some canon characters, revisit OCs, dump references... Build Olivia's character too. Is it weird that she resembles Randall by the way? I sort of think it's sweet. She has similar passion for old historical/archeological things, good fencer... Total nerd in some aspects. Teresa and Henry can both see the resemblance between the two at least. :D**

 **Man... Teresa just became my new favourite OC. I wanna write of ehr childhood. I won't though. That's why I made her monologue so much in this chapter.**

 **But I hope you liked this chapter. Despite the cliffhanger. And I also hope you review. It'd like to hear your thoughs of what will happen next. And of what will Olivia's role be during the actual game-events. ;)**

 **Stey tuned guys and gals!**


	4. Doves in Black

**A/N: This was... a hard chapter to write. I tried to do some etiquette research for the beginning and for the end I was close to tears when writing... But the big kicker has happened now. I've been quite heavily headcanoning for this fic so some of you many not agree in all of these ideas of mine...**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Doves in Black**

 **Year 19Y1, September, the Dove Residence**

"I need to go and stop them." Olivia whispered. Clive's eyes widened.

"Are you crazy? If that man sees you."

"I doesn't expect me to… to know anything really. I'll be fine. Safe. You stay here. Make sure no one listens in." Olivia untied her hair from the low ponytail and smoothed down her clothes. After taking a deep breath, she began descending the stairs. What else was said behind the door, she didn't hear as she briskly strode to the door and knocked on it twice.

"Mrs. Constance…" Olivia used the way of addressing that was agreed on years ago. 'Granma' was too informal for social gatherings and 'mother' as something both Olivia and Clive had been uncomfortable with due the age difference. Likewise Olivia was usually called by her middle name, Charlotte, in similar situations. For reasons of privacy.

"Charlotte... Come in dear." Constance spoke and the girl stepped in. Her eyes immediately calculated the situation. Constance and… Leon Bronev were sitting opposite each other on arm chairs with a small table adorned by teaset between them. "Mr. Bronev. This is my daughter and heiress Charlotte Dove. Charlotte. This is Leon Bronev. He came to discuss with me about financing a project of his… organization."

"I see. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bronev." Olivia greeted the man cordially and offered her hand to him like the etiquette required. The man, obviously having manners and knowing the etiquette quite well, had gotten up from his seat as soon it was clear Constance was about the introduce them. It was only polite for men stand up if women were standing.

"Likewise, miss Dove." Bronev took Olivia's hand and shook it briefly.

"Forgive me for not knowing your name beforehand. Mrs. Constance receives so many requests for financing nowadays."

"That's alright. We are not that known of a group and prefer our… privacy."

"I see. Yet you came to ask for funding from Mrs. Constance. Don't you have other backers already?" The girl inquired. At the same time she took a good look on the man. He had a beard and messy blond-ish hair. He was dressed smartly in blue suit jacket and white straight pants. But what drew Olivia's attention was the eyes. They were to most unique shade of Maroon. Quite red but not quite purple or brown. No wonder Constance had recognized him if she'd known him before.

"Mrs. Dove and I… we used to be acquainted." Bronev stated, weighting his words carefully. Constance was glaring at the man. "So I assumed she'd be willing to lend a hand. Apparently I was wrong." It was like icy wind was blowing in the room but Olivia was sweating. She really wanted that man out of that room. Out of this whole house.

"An acquaintance or not, if you don't have proper paperwork and clear explanation what are you going to use the money for or how are you going to pay me back, I can not… I will not give you a single penny."

"I see." Bronev said stiffly and reached for his pocket. Olivia held her breath but appeared he was only taking out his black glasses. "I suppose you won't change your mind any time soon."

"Give me proof, Leon. Give me proof you are the same man than twenty-five years ago. Before your whole family disappeared." Constance glared. "Marcela can show you out." The woman picked a small bell from the table and rang it once. In few moments Marcela had appeared to the doorway.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Dove. I hope one day we may meet again." Leon Bronev put the glasses on his face and walked out of the room. There was an unspoken wish for Olivia be less stubborn in financial matters.

Once both Marcela and Bronev were properly out of the room and hopefully on the way to the front door, Constance let out a sigh.

"Olivia dear… Call your brother."

"Yes, granma." Olivia walked to the door. She waited until the front door had been closed and Marcela had gone back to her duties. Then she gestured Clive down from the first floor. The boy made his way swiftly. Swiftly meaning he slid down the bannister. A childish act both siblings did when no one was seeing but each other. And hey, is kept the bannister clean.

"Close the door, Clive." Constance spoke again and gestured the siblings to take a seat on the nearby sofa.

"What is it? How did you know that man?" Olivia asked immediately. She needed to know. There wasn't many people who could rattle Constance that badly. She seen. And heard.

"Leon Bronev was one of the Britain's most renowned archeologists once upon a time. He specialized in Azrans, people who were said to have lived way before the time of the ancient Egyptians, Greeks or even Mesopotamians. Not much information has survived of them. At least not for civilians to know of. There is however chosen few how devote their whole life to unearth the secrets of Azran people. Leon Bronev was one of them. I met him a couple of times here in London but mostly he stayed in his study in countryside. He was an interesting and likeable fellow so we began exchanging letters. I was even invited to the weddings of him and his fiancée Rachel Hamlet. I never met his sons, Hershel and Theodore, but I did hear about them through the letters…" Constance had poured herself another cup of tea. It was probably cold but she didn't seem to care.

"And then…?" Clive prompted the woman carefully.

"I… Then nothing. They disappeared well over two decades ago. I heard nothing of them until this day when Mr. Bronev walked in through those doors."

"What about…" Olivia began but shut up.

"What about what, dear? Do speak up if you want to know. The worst I can do is to leave the question unanswered."

"You mentioned Targent… We heard it all the way to the first floor."

"Ah that… _cult_." Constance lip curled in disgust before she schooled her features once more. "I don't know much but just enough. They are researching the Azran too, as evidenced by Leon Bronev's involvement now. They are a large organized group of fanatics… But that's it. And I want nothing to do with them."

"…Was your refusal to fund them because of the shadiness or Targent, Bronev's involvement or lack of paperwork brought along?" Clive frowned.

"Ah, you were listening in, weren't you?"

"I…!" The boy stammered in alarm. After all it was not becoming of someone of their status to eavesdrop private conversations. While mostly the image of high class family was reserved for the outsiders to see, certain manners had been hammered on both Olivia and Clive the entire time they'd lived as Constance Dove's children. So, to the astonishment of both of them, the woman simply waved the attempted apology away.

"No matter, just make sure you aren't caught next time. The answer is yes to all of those questions. And now I want an answer of my own. Why are you two so curious about Targent? You wouldn't listen these meetings normally, but as soon as I mentioned the organization this morning breakfast you went oddly quiet, Clive." A piercing stare was aimed at the boy. Clive fidgeted on his seat and glanced at Olivia. The girl looked at him before sighing and shaking her head.

"We… We found out about them a while back and have been investigating discreetly ever since" The girl began. Maud was called to bring more tea and thus the siblings explained to their adoptive mother/grandmother what had happened last year and what they'd found out later. Olivia's missing in February was omitted and Constance didn't press it.

"I see." The lady of the house stated finally, breaking the silence filled with clinking of china. "Thank you for telling me this. I doubt I can do anything right now, except deny their requests…Good that Malire is out of the picture, too. Unpleasant fellow."

"Grandma, I'm sorry I didn't tell earlier…" Olivia began but Constance silenced her with gentle gesture of hand.

"It's alright, Olivia. You were scared and didn't know all the details. It's perfectly alright. And I thank you for interfering today. I fear I might've said something I'd regretted later." The woman put her tea cup with its saucer back on the table and placed her hands on her lap neatly. "Now, why don't you tell me about the adventure you had at Stansbury?"

* * *

 **Year 19Y2, March, Gressenheller Secondary school**

It was the last spring of Olivia's schooling in the Secondary school. She was almost eighteen and able to finish earlier, and apply to university for the next autumn. She had been taking additional courses during the past year to speed up her schooling. The quicker she got any diploma, the better.

But today…

Olivia coughed. She had been feeling weak lately. For several months really. She hadn't spoken to anyone about it except Clive. The boy was puzzled since he had felt nothing lately. He did say that the last six months had been strange though.

" _Mr. Shipley's roses died from below the sitting room window. Only that bush though. All the other ones bloomed as usual."_ The boy had told her. He had seemed uneasy about the matter. When Olivia hand confronted him, _"I've been dumping my tea upon it. I don't like the way Marcela has made it. Maud's is brilliant though."_

It was the first thing that struck odd to Olivia. The second was the way Marcela seemed to be watching her and her doings lately. But the maid was a friend of hers… right?

"Miss Dove? You have a call at principal's office." The teacher of the lesson, biology, said from the classroom door where she'd been talking with another teacher. Olivia looked up from her musings.

"I see. I'll come right up." She stood up from her seat and began collecting her books.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Marcela, who still shared classes with her, asked concernedly.

"No, need. Just take notes from the rest of the lessons okay?"

"Right." The Italian girl didn't look too happy about the fact but remained seated. Olivia made her way to the teachers.

"They are asking you home. Your manor's caretaker Cogg is coming to pick you from the gate." The chemistry teacher, Mr. Cure, who had come to inform about the phone call explained.

"I see. Do they need me at the office at all? Was the reason explained?" Olivia enquired.

"It's…" The teacher looked uneasy. "Why don't I walk you to your locker?"

The dark haired girl did not like the feeling of dread that settled at the bottom of her stomach like lead.

* * *

 **Year 19Y2, March, the Dove Residence**

Olivia hurriedly run the stairs up. To the first floor and then through the corridors towards the bedrooms. She didn't even bother taking her coat off. Outside Constance's room Maud was standing. The maid's usually apathetic face was tear streaked.

"Lady is waiting for you." She whispered to Olivia who carefully opened the door, confirming her fears. Constance had been feeling weak and ill for a long time, just like Olivia had but much stronger. And now the once formidable and steely woman was reduced into a pale shadow of herself. She was lying under numerous woolen comforters and propped up by pillows on her bed with Clive sitting on a chair by her bedside. The boy looked up as Olivia entered. Constance in the other hand was too weak. She simply turned her head slightly to see the doorway.

"Grandma…" Tears sprung in the girl's eyes. This was wrong. Constance was strong. She had so much to do. So much still ahead even though she was approaching the eve of human life. This shouldn't have been now.

"My dear…" Constance smiled. Her dry and wrinkly skin stretched upon her facial bones. The woman had lost weight. Even her hair – that Maud still brushed every morning and was now braided neatly – had lost healthy shine. And her voice was so frail. Not defeated – Never defeated! – but so, so tired. It conveyed what the siblings feared.

"Grandma Constance, I…" Olivia couldn't hold it back any more and rushed forth to hug the woman. "You can't go. You can't!"

"My dearest Olivia…" A thin hand reached to run it through the girl's long dark locks. "You are such a fine woman. And your brother is a fine gentleman, too." Constance smiled to Clive who was sitting still as a statue on the chair but had tears flowing down his cheeks as well. "I could never have children on my own but I'm happy how much I've been able to help you both."

"Grandmother…" Clive hiccupped.

"Come here, little one." Though Clive was no means little anymore, being fourteen already, he was still Constance's little boy. Lost little boy who found family.

"You can't go too." The boy whispered and climbed in top of the covers to grasp Constance's hand. Olivia turned her head to look at her brother and was reminded of some nights years ago… Constance would invite the two into her room and they'd listen her read stories of olden times. It had happened surprisingly lot when Clive had just arrived and also when Olivia had been the only child living in the manor.

"You will be fine Clive. You and Olivia have each other. And whatever you decide to do with your future, you have my blessing. I know it won't be easy and you will have many obstacles… But I know you can find trusted allies to aid you."

"But what if… What if it means hurting others?"

"Then you must have a good reason for that. I know this society isn't the best environment for all. But you both have good hearts. Listen to them. If your mind leads you wrong, listen to your hearts and people who can reach that heart."

"No, no…" Olivia muttered. "If you go, that means all this… This all estate and money… I have to take care of it all. I can't do that. I'm just a child. I'm not ready for that responsibility. Or the people. I need your help still, Grandma."

"I'd be more worried if you told me you are ready. I know this is a lot of responsibility for you. That's why I've taught you myself to handle it. If you make mistakes, they can always be fixed. It is just money anyways. And who cares of social image. You can burn it all for all I care. As long as you two remain happy and content with your life." Constance explained to the girl.

"Grandmother Constance?" Clive asked then.

"Yes, little one?"

"Do you regret anything?"

"Maybe one or two things… But in the end they don't matter. I'm content. And that is enough."

The trio kept quietly talking until…

"Now, one day we will meet again. Until then, there must be no regrets, no tears, no anxieties. Just go forward in all your beliefs and prove to me that I am not mistaken in mine. Goodbye, Olivia. Goodbye, Clive. Goodbye, my dears."

* * *

" _Quoting a television program as her final words… That was something unexpected. Yet… That's exactly what Constance Dove would do… That's the woman who I grew to know and love and look up to."_ An obituary written by Charlotte Dove was published in London Times a week before funeral. Media attempted to sneak in to the ceremony but got only few pictures on the people there. Even if the Dove heiress managed to be captured on the film, it could not serve much for identification for public with her head bowed, and her hat and mourning veil hiding her face.

Said heiress – lady when she finally became of age – was now going through finances that in future she'd be watching over. After a knock a door was opened and Marcela brought in a tea tray.

"Thank you, Marcela. Leave it there, I'll drink it later." Olivia gestured a side table next to window.

"You should drink it soon, before it cools down."

"I know. But I'm busy as you can see." She may or may not have snapped to the maid, but she was stressed. She had school to finish, estate to oversee and her health wasn't getting any better.

"Yes. I can." With those parting words, Marcela left the office. Olivia raised her head and looked thoughtfully at the tea pot.

" _Clive only dumps the tea Marcela makes. If Maud brings it, he drinks it happily. Shipley's roses died on the spot the tea was dumped on. Grandma and I kept drinking the tea and became severely ill but Clive didn't…"_ The train of thought became interrupted by harsh coughs. "I need to be sure."

Olivia rummaged the drawers until she found a small pill bottle. It used to contain aspirin but was washed now and etiquette free because it was so handy shaped. Without further thought, Olivia got up and went to pour some of the tea into the bottle which she sealed tightly. She then went to write a letter and pressed two buttons on the desk. The buttons were attached to bells at the servant quarters. A bell for each servant. Because there had been so few people as owners at time, the servants usually knew where to go. There of course were a different bell system in the kitchen that indicated a certain room to be called but were less in use.

In couple of minutes both Maud and Shipley arrived.

"Thank you for coming so promptly." Olivia stated and straightened her back. She hadn't bothered to sit down for writing the letter which was now in sealed envelope. "I have jobs for you two. They are separate from the duties you have here and thus are not to be spoken of to anyone. Is the clear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Yes, young lady."

"Good. Now… Maud." The maid straightened at the direct address. "You are to get rid of that tea and inform Spring that only she is allowed to brew tea from now on. Marcela is not to be let into the kitchen at all or allowed to serve food during dinners. After that come back here straight away to receive the actual assignment."

"Yes, Lady Olivia." Maud curtseyed and picked the tray from the table, leaving the office. Olivia waited until the maid had left before turning to speak with the gardener. Just in case she wanted to keep their knowledge of each other's assignments separate.

"Shipley. Find out who was Marcela Candela's previous employer. I have here a file of the information she had provided me but I don't know how much of it is true. Use all information routes you have available. You have all the time you need for it and any costs that may appear, inform me so I can provide you enough funds."

"Ma'am, if I may be so bold…" Shipley began.

"Speak, Shipley. You have served well during Grandma's time and she always trusted you. And so do I."

"Heh, you really have the same steel than Lady Constance." The gardener grinned. "It's like talking with her once again." He sobered soon enough though. "Are you suspecting maid Marcela for foul play? I thought she was your friend."

"'Was' being the operative word." Olivia sighed. "Something happened during the last years. It was the whole story she told me after losing her job and made me offer a place here. Then her behavior as of late and… that tea. Something foul has been going on ever since Leon Bronev's visit and I'm suspecting Marcela of being part of it. But I want to be sure before it's too late. That's why the assignments for you and Maud."

"I see. I'll get right to it ma'am! And garden can survive without me for a while." Shipley saluted –he had been a marine once upon a time – and exited. Right on time for Maud to return.

"Ah, Maud. Here." Olivia gave the piller bottle full of tea and a letter. "Get these to Gressenheller University to Professor Cure to be analyzed. The letter explains it all. If the tests can be conducted quickly, wait for the results. If not, then come back. And only for Professor Cure, no one else. He teaches chemistry also at the secondary school and… If you need to confirm his identity, then he was the one who informed me that Grandma needed me by her side on _that_ day."

* * *

 **A/N: Points for anyone who figures out whom Constance was quoting as her parting words. And about things she told Clive and Olivia... I think that in the Unwound Future they all too briefly mentioned Constance. We basically know nothing about her apart from the fact she had a lot of money that Clive used to build Future London. So during these past chapters I've been character building. Constance Dove above all valued her children. I don't know if she ever had a husband but for the sake of this story it doesn't matter. And I can't handle the thought she'd condemn Clive's actions. She knows he is struggling. He could see he was doubting himself and might end up hurting people in his quest for revenge... So she offers comfort for him. In the end Clive is a good boy with a good heart who was horribly wronged.**

 **And I personally think that while sometimes our emotions may override logic it acts vice versa, too. Sometimes cold and calculated way of thinking may ignore what we think is actually right to do.**

 **I let you reeling on a cliffhanger again. In the next chapter we'll find out just who Marcela is and what her motives are.**

 **()**

 **PS. Professor Cure... I almost named him Professor Curie, after Marie Curie who discovered Radium.**


	5. Making contact

**A/N: Aa... I took a bit of a break with updating because of some stuff... And I bet some of my readers have noted my Naruto fic... Yeah. I'm sorry. Or not. I write whatever hell I want to! *flips papers in the air* \o/**

 **Some plot points will be solved now... A new'ish character is introduced and... Well, just read, okay? :)**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Making contact**

 **Year 19Y2, April, the Dove Residence**

It took a week for the necessary test be made for the tea sample Olivia had sent to Professor Cure and a bit longer for Shipley find information on Marcela Candela's former employers.

Olivia was sitting once again at Constance old office and reading over the report Professor Cure had sent her via Maud. The tea had been poisoned with some fluid extracted from a certain tropical plant. It was a slow affecting poison and if Olivia was right in her guesses… then Marcela had been giving that poison for a longer time to the three Doves. And directly or indirectly caused Constance's death. The thought had the heiress fuming. It was unforgivable.

The only light in this situation was that there was an antidote for the poison. It would take a long time for it to purge the poison out of her body but it was better than nothing. Being a healthy young woman when the poisoning had started had given her resistance but Constance with her age…

The girl sighed. She really didn't want to deal with this. She had trusted Marcela. Not as much as Teresa or the people from Monte d'Or and Stansbury but enough for this betrayal to hurt. Speaking of which, she probably should contact Mr. Ledore in regards of the next expedition to the ruins… And visit Teresa and her daughter. As Olivia Brandt of course.

During the last years Olivia had begun using different variations of her name in different situations. And with just a touch of make-up and different hairstyle she managed to avoid people recognizing her and connecting her with the other names.

Olivia Dove was for school. It was the legal name she had after all currently. It was also the one Constance had used.

Charlotte Dove was for social functions and meetings pertaining the estate. In the other hand Charlotte was the Heiress of Dove fortune. Naturally Clive had his share too but the public wasn't that interested in him. Using the name Charlotte also allowed Olivia to use the same signet ring Constance had had due the same initials.

Then there was Olivia Brandt. She was freedom. She was everything the girl wished of her life. Adventure, history, art… Probably the persona she would been without any others if her parents had never died. But Olivia couldn't know for sure. And in the end it didn't matter. She might have had many responsibilities now but she still had her freedom. Clive had been taught the same matters after all and could handle things if she felt the need to leave London for any reason…

There was a knock on the door. Olivia placed the report away and organized some of the papers on the table.

"Come in."

It was Shipley.

"Found the info, ma'am." The gardener said as soon as the door was closed. "It was by a stroke of luck really."

"But you have it?" Olivia had hard time keeping her voice from trembling. She feared the worst of what would find.

"Yes, ma'am. I wrote some things in my notebook but not that much… Couldn't have someone steal it from my pocket with all the info after all."

"I understand. Please tell me what you found out."

"It was by chance yesterday really. I was 'round Yorkshire, enquiring in pubs if they'd ever heard the name when one of the patrons came to me. He introduced himself as Raymond. He was reluctant to talk but after a while he relayed some information to me. According to him Marcela and her mother Carla both worked for the household he served prior the demise of the owners. Apparently Carla died in the fire along with majority of the staff but Marcela's body was never found…"

"The house burned down?" Olivia frowned. That sounded familiar. And considering the timeframe Marcela herself had given… The heiress was feeling dread now. "Who were the employers?"

"The Sycamore family, ma'am."

* * *

Olivia was going through the papers she'd stolen over a year ago from Malire. There had been another coincidence regarding Sycamore's that Shipley had managed to coax out of Raymond. The health of whole family had dropped during the year without any apparent reason after Malire's visit.

"Targent will pay for this…" Olivia growled and showed the papers back to the files and hid the said files back underneath the false bottom of her bookshelf. She had a plan of action now. Clive had already been informed about the circumstances and both Spring and Cogg were watching over him so the boy wouldn't do anything rash.

The young lady dusted her skirt and looked out of the window. It was raining. That meant moisture could gather on the linen put to dry on the attic. Since Marcela was the one watching over washing the cloths, she'd be the one to take the sheets and table cloths down. Perfect.

* * *

"Lady Olivia, you may find this article interesting." Maud held out a newspaper when Olivia walked towards the stairs leading the upper floors.

"Thank you Maud. Do you have a bit of time? I'm going to talk with Marcela soon." The girl took the paper, opened on at the page of some minor articles. One of them told about a mysterious death at a hospital. Upon a closer look it became clear to Olivia that it was Malire the patient in question. Cause of death was stated to be weakened heart. "Thank you for bringing this to my notice. One less thing for me to worry about."

"You are welcome, my lady. And no, I do not have any duties to attend currently."

"Good, follow me and stay out of sight. I do not know how Marcela may react to the things I'm about to talk with her."

* * *

The attic of the Dove manor was spacious with a lot of items and relics from the previous generations stored in there. It was also the place were some of the cloths of the manor were put to dry. And that's where one Marcela Candela was, near window, taking the clean white fabrics down from the clothes line strewn all over the room. Olivia smiled when she noticed the other girl was nowhere near ready and the sheets still hanging would obscure Marcela's view from Maud who was right behind the heiress. The young woman quickly schooled her features and stepped closer to the place where the traitor was.

"Hello, Marcela." To Olivia's satisfaction the addressed girl jumped in surprise.

"God, Olivia, you frightened me." The Italian put a hand on her chest and turned around, simultaneously inching towards the clothes basket by her feet. Action which didn't go unnoticed by Olivia even though the young woman didn't comment on it.

"My apologizes."

"Ah, not at all. May I ask you here? You've been lately at the office of the late Lady Constance."

"I came to take a breath of fresh air and… talk to you."

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Tea. It has had a strange flavor as of late."

Marcela stiffened.

"Clive didn't like it and dumped it on the roses. And you know… most interesting thing happened a while later. Those roses died. Isn't it strange?"

 _ **Click.**_

Olivia blinked and looked down at the pistol pointed at her. It had been hidden in the basket underneath the neatly folded linen that were not so neat anymore.

"You decided to show your true colors then, Marcela." The heiress stated coldly and drew herself into her full height. "Tell me. Do you work for Targent? Did Leon Bronev order you to poison us? Were you also behind poisoning of Sycamores? Or was it your mother Carla?"

"Hmph." Marcela smirked, her posture radiating confidence. "They are dying too slow. And after a year my mother couldn't increase the dose discreetly anymore… So the boss told me to burn it all down. A little sob story and you were flying to help me, placing me to the perfect place to act if needed."

"It was strangely convenient story. Especially considering what had happened on the previous months." Olivia replied smoothly, not letting the words rattle her. "And I suppose I need to die now too. It would be a pity if the linen were to get dirty with my blood."

"You damnable…" The agent-turned-maid growled. "You think you are so much better, don't you? With money and looks and grades? I'll show you… You are nothing more than a pathetic orphan who doesn't know her place."

"You took the words out of my mouth."

"What?!"

"The same could be applied to you. Pathetic orphan who doesn't know her place."

"Curse you, Olivia Dove! Curse you!" The finger tightened on the trigger. But right then Maud dashed from behind the hanging sheets and pushed Marcela towards the open window. The Italian stumbled by the force of impact and tried to remain upright. In process she kept backing towards the low window until…

Olivia looked away and ignored the scream coming from the once-friend the short amount of time the Italian girl fell from the top floor. After that there was nothing.

"Lady Olivia, are you alright?" Maud asked, apparently unconcerned she'd just made a fellow employee fall to her death.

"I'm… I will be. What about you?"

"I simply took the trash out."

"I see. Please go to inspect Marcela's belongings. I need to speak with Cogg and Shipley."

"As you wish." Maud curtseyed.

"And Maud…" Olivia hesitated.

"Yes, my lady?"

"Thank you."

* * *

There was a patch of forest by the edge of the estate. That was where Marcela Candela was buried to. No one would miss her as she had no other family or friends. And considering how Targent seemed to be treating its agents, Olivia doubted one would come looking for the maid.

And thus the spring turned into summer. Olivia graduated, Clive began scouring for a journalist job despite still having a year of schooling left, and there begun to be a routine at Dove Residence once again. Two new maids were hired after thorough background check and Marcela was never spoken of again in the household. During the summer Olivia visited Teresa at Stansbury and finally met her little daughter, Lamb. Some weeks later there was once again an expedition to the ruins, to which Olivia gladly participated in.

* * *

 **Year 19Y2, September, Gressenheller University**

Olivia got in. She was happy about that. Really happy. Finally she could study in depth exactly the subjects she wanted to: art and history. Archeology was part of history course and not exactly her major. But it didn't matter as long as it was interesting. Professor Hershel Layton's lectures certainly were even though Olivia was sitting in the backrow and trying to be unnoticeable during the lessons she actually attended.

It was because of her duties back home that she sometimes had to miss classes. And also the social functions she had to attend that sometimes happened in the middle of day. Thankfully despite the news coverage in gossip magazines on such events, she was never recognized at school. It was all thanks to Maud and her skill in braiding Olivia's hair on elaborate hair styles and applying the make up just right so she'd look older.

Other reason why Olivia decided to keep a low profile was the… visits she'd started paying to the Coop once again. And on those times she wasn't disguising as an agent. No. She had a simple greyish blue jacket, slightly loose, grey pants, comfortable shoes and not those horrible boots the agents had. As… accessories, Olivia had her paper tube slash sword compartment and a simple black mask she'd bought during one of her trips to Monte d'Or.

Anyways, she wanted to make sure that any possible agents at the university wouldn't pay too much attention on her so if she skipped classes to sneak to the base… She wouldn't be connected to that. And In Olivia's opinion her paranoia was well founded.

And thus the rest of the year rolled for her.

* * *

 **Year 19Y3, May, London Opera house**

The ones with most money, reputation, connections and prestige were invited. Olivia wasn't sure which category she belonged into. Nevertheless she enjoyed the opera performance on stage. It was one composed by Mr. Oswald Whistler. Olivia had heard rumors though that due his daughter's poor health he might be retiring from the public eye.

It was during the intermission – whilst mingling with the other attendees – that Olivia met with an intriguing individual.

"You must be Mademoiselle Charlotte Dove, am I correct?" The male voice had a slight French accent to be detected as if the way of addressing her wasn't a clear giveaway already. Olivia turned her head towards the man. He was quite tall and also quite handsome. He was dressed sharply in black suit even if the flaring ends of his shirtsleeves gave out a rebelling impression. His face in the other hand was angular, with piercing pale blue eyes looking down on her. There was dark shadows under his eyes that hadn't been bothered to be covered with make-up or anything. It made him look stressed as did the prematurely graying hair that hung by his jawline, neatly cut though. He seemed to be approximately in his late twenties or early thirties, but he had a lot of contradictions in the way he looked and moved. Even Olivia, for all she prided herself for her ability to read people, couldn't put her finger on it.

"Yes, I am her. And do you might be?" Olivia couldn't place the face in front of her but was sure that she'd seen it somewhere. Maybe in some book or magazine… With her photographic memory it was hard to forget faces once she'd gotten a good look on them, even if she wanted to. But back to the present. She was certain the man was someone to know. After all considering the rest of the guest list, there was no nobodies at the opera house on that day.

"Jean-Luc Denis. I'm a scientist and a friend of the Whistlers."

A Scientist. Clive must have mentioned him once or twice then.

"Pleasure to meet you." Olivia offered her hand, which the man kissed gently on the knuckles.

"Enchanté." The man released her hand and offered his arm then. "Would you terribly mind if I were escort you back to the seats?"

"Not at all." Such an intriguing individual. Said one thing… and was thinking already his next move. Like a snake, poised to strike. Olivia slipped her hand on his arm and they began slowly walking through the crowd. While there was all sorts of gossip going around, there also was a lot of individuals who were much more interesting than a young lady and an eccentric scientist. "Have you been enjoying the eve?"

"Quite. Right before the beginning of the opera I had most fascinating conversation with Mr. Whistler. Have you ever met them?" Jean-Luc told.

"I'm afraid I haven't. Due the… untimely demise of my predecessor, I've been busy during last year. Especially due by studies as well." University was brilliant but also a lot of work.

"By predecessor you mean your… adoptive mother, late Lady Constance Dove, correct?"

"Correct. I'm surprised you have to confirm that. After all you did recognize me." Olivia arched an inquiring eye brow at the man who chuckled.

"Mes excuses. I have not been in England until recently."

"Apology accepted."

* * *

The rest of the way was spent idly chatting about everything possible. And Olivia didn't know why but she felt perfectly at ease with the man. He was a charming one. And smart too. Didn't put much weight on rumors but did understand the importance of listening to them in the case something useful was heard. He had quite the dry wit and sometime radical opinions. Thankfully they didn't stray too far from light subjects. Olivia really didn't fancy start listening to politics or even ethics coming from anyone.

"Do you have your seat in the balcony or the floor?" Jean-Luc asked by the stairs leading either up or down from where they stood.

"The first balcony, left side, second row."

"What a coincidence, so have I!"

Olivia held back a very unladylike snort but offered a wry smile. "Oh, really? If I recall correctly not nearly all seats were taken even though each guest had their own seat assigned to them in the invitation… Mr. Whistler and his daughter Melina in the other hand have their seats in a private booth just on the _right_ of the stage… As a quest invited by them and not the event organizer… shouldn't you be sitting with them?"

"You are right on the mark, my lady." Jean-Luc smiled. "But since there is so many free seats, I'm sure that no one will complain if I were to take one of them."

"My, you certainly know your way with words." Olivia laughed. It had been a while since she had felt like this. Truly happy without any burdens looming above her. And it was a surprise that out of all things, she found the happiness in a social circles that she usually tried to ignore when possible. What's more… While she was certain the man wasn't all he seemed, she also knew he wasn't exactly… He wasn't evil. At least not in the same sense Targent was. It was a strange feeling. A dangerous one that only made her want to know more.

Whilst seated at the balcony, the conversation continued.

"You said you are still studying. May I inquire what has captured Mademoiselle Dove's attention so that she rather spends her time at school bench than socializing like the other girls of her age?" The scientist smirked, one leg over other and hands clasped together on his lap.

"I study art and thus tend to travel. There is a lot of places even here in England with breathtaking sights. Why, just a month ago I went to Stansbury. It is a small town, village even, but the view from the cliffs is marvelous. Not to mention the complete anonymity I have when visiting." Olivia winked, making the man chuckle again. "What about you then? You say you are a scientist but of what field?"

"Robotics and machinery with a bit of chemistry on the side." Came the cryptic answer. "I don't have a specified area that I concentrate on but I rather combine what I deem suitable for my needs."

For some reason that was a one statement more to add to the 'dangerous' category. But once again Olivia let her curiousity rule her thinking. And she would've asked more if the orchestra hadn't begun playing. The lights dimmed in the audience and the curtain rose for the second time in night. When everyone's attention was on the stage, Jean-Luc leant in to whisper to the girl's ear in French.

" _If you want to, I can introduce you to the Whistlers, mademoiselle… Non, Dame Colombe."_

Olivia smiled and turned her head to whisper back in the same language: _"I'd like to. Just as I'd like to get to know you more, Monsieur Denis."_

It was dangerous. She didn't know this man. He was wearing a mask upon his words and actions. Over his heart too. Olivia could relate. And this was dangerous in a different way than taking on Targent. _This_ was thrilling. And Olivia was loving every minute of it.

* * *

 **A/N: Olivia... you adrenaline junkie...**

 **Now, I bet you have your suspicions about Jean-Luc Denis. and I bet you are confused about it because I've included the Sycamores into this story. So I'll nip this specualation right at the bud. I've based Jean-Luc on 'Frenchscole' design of Nattherat(deviantArt), who has made this amazing Twoscole headcanon I'm definitely employing in some form in this fic. (I already got a permission) I don't know how much in depth my version will be to theirs because this fic - despite my meticulous planning - is still in a light flux in detail-wise.**

 **So I hope you like this turn of events. I don't know when I'll update the next chapter but... well... It'll be interesting one anyways.**


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